On prom night, in the darkness of a party closet,
after-party death connection, before the freeways
eat my buddies whole, and spit out their shortened
histories, my cumberbum came off and my rented
slick trousers fell, and in the stuffy darkness of that
sacred cell, I built for you the castle of my imagination
and lowered the drawbridge for your holy entourage
to enter. We slept that night like stone in a fitted wall
surrounded by the morning’s violent moat, and now
memory takes me nowhere further, I come back to this,
the perfect moment of all my future gains and losses.